A really REALLY rough concept draft for a comic I want to work on in the future.

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"Alrighty guys, bedtime now." Westley scoots off his sisters bed, and I chase him with a playful swat on his rump with the storybook. He grins as he climbs up to his bunk on top.
My heart aches to see the twins, so very much like their mother, so different in those subtle yet profound ways. Westley was outgoing, boyish, and stubborn. His sister Emily was stubborn at times as well, but only rarely. The rest of the time she was sweet and shy, a little princess. Both were darker in fur color than their mom and dad, having an almost brownish tint to their orange fur, but it seemed to suit them well.
I knew Westley wouldn't want to be tucked in. He was in a stage where he wanted to prove that he was growing up, and he didn't want to be 'babied' any more. Yet more often than not, he would be the one to sneak down the hall to my little room at the back of the house, where he would cuddle into bed with me. So instead, I tucked in Emily, her face set in a sad pout, knowing that I would have to leave them for the night. I gave her a quick kiss, a habit I've taught them to not be ashamed of, and ruffled her ears and fur. I felt Westley shift on top of us in his mattress, probably already fast asleep.
As I rose to leave, Emily blessed me with an innocent yet powerful statement: "Uncle David, I wish YOU were our Daddy..."
I fought the urge to cry, and although I smiled sweetly down on her, couldn't hide the lump in my throat. "You have a Daddy, remember? He's away at work right now, he'll be back this weekend."
"But he's mean! He never plays with us! He yells and makes Momma cry! I hate him!"
I knew Tom was a bad father. He was a typical manly-man, one who lacked the tenderness and a nurturing instinct that these two angels deserved.
"Shh, don't say mean things about people Emily. Some people just don't know how to be good dads."
"That's why I want YOU to be our Daddy! Mommy loves you! She'll say it's okay!"
I shook my head, almost shaking with heartache. "Shhh, baby. Shhh! Westley is sleeping." And sure enough, his soft snore could be heard. I kissed her once again. "Good night kids. I'll see you both in the morning." She whimpered loudly with a small huff, but settled down.
Her pout remained on her face as I closed the door. She turned her eyes away, so she wouldn't have to say goodbye.
I'd been living with my step-sister since right before their birth, during her late stages of pregnancy. Her boyfriend/fiance didn't want to be around until after the children turned two, and since then waltzed in and claimed responsibility for raising the kids. I stayed on with her family, acting as a live-in male nanny. I've heard many fights between Tom and my sister, and seen how distant the man could be towards the children. It wasn't fair, for them, for her, for me, to have to live with such a man. But he was here in our lives to stay, and my sister loved him still, even though the cost was a few ugly bruises every odd week.
I pressed my back against the door, and thought of the two children inside. "Your Daddy loves you very much." The tears then spilled from my eyes. "I've ALWAYS loved you, with all my heart and soul."
Heart heavy with secrets and sorrow, I walked back toward my rented room. All I could be to them was their Uncle. Nothing more.